


Zombie Soup

by bodiesnotourown (Israfael)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ficlet, Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-29
Updated: 2012-09-29
Packaged: 2017-11-15 06:19:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/524064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Israfael/pseuds/bodiesnotourown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel makes some soup.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Zombie Soup

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lybella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lybella/gifts).



> For my darling Peaches who made me soup when I was sick.

“Caaaaaasssss.”   
  
The groan from the living room makes Castiel roll his eyes as he continues chopping carrots. He smiles to himself as the pathetic whining carries on and he tips the cutting board and slides the carrots into the pot with the flat of his knife. After, he gathers the piles dishes and places them in the sink, the soup cooking cheerily on the stove. He then pops a baking sheet loaded with biscuits into the preheated oven. He enjoys the feeling of the heat on his skin left from opening the door. It’s warm and cozy, though he’s sure the pathetic creature in the other room would complain about it being too hot. When the snuffling from said being becomes too much for him to bear he snags a box of tissues out of the bathroom and pads into the sun soaked living room. A hand is thrust out from under a pile of blankets and he drops the box into it and laughs silently as it disappears back under the mountain of fabric.   
  
The television is on, playing reruns of that medical drama that he isn’t sure he’ll ever really understand. Some intern is squawking at what he thinks is a doctor about her giving him syphilis or something and Castiel decides he has had his fill of the drama and returns to their kitchen. He starts washing the pan he used to cook the chicken and when he is elbow deep in hot water and suds, he hears the shuffling of life from the living room and then into the bathroom. He hums lightly, Led Zeppelin sounding less smooth in his voice’s lower register.  
  
He dries his hands, stirring the soup, and enjoys a moment of contentment as the sun warms his face through the wall of windows above the sink. The smell of the soup mixing with the scent of biscuits baking warms him more than the sun can. He pulls the baking sheet out of the over and scoops them into a basket, placing cloth over them to keep the heat in. He turns towards the entryway into the kitchen from the living room as he hears the bundle of blankets leave the bathroom. He deftly grabs a bowl and spoons some soup into it, sliding a spoon into it as well. He turns to lean the small of his back against the countertop, bowl of soup in one hand and a biscuit wrapped in paper towel in the other.    
  
“Oh god, souuuup.” Castiel laughs as Dean shuffles like a zombie, one arm outstretched, reaching for the bowl, and one clutching the blankets. He ducks Dean’s lean-in for a kiss, despite not being able to catch the flu running rampant in his human’s body, but still not willing to risk it. After all, he’s had to deal with Dean’s complaining and it does not look like an amusing way to spend his time. He hands him the soup and pushes back the hood of blanket to kiss Dean on the forehead.   
  
“Couch. Let’s go.” Dean scowls at him. “Bossy, much?”  
  
Castiel smiles briefly and deepens his voice into what Dean calls the “smite-y” voice and points to the living room.   
“Dean Winchester. Get back on the couch.”  
  
After some grumbling about pushy angels, Castiel follows him to the living room and watches as he arranges himself on the couch, sinking back into the cushions with a sigh. Dean digs into the soup, the large noodles and chunks of chicken having him making a noise that makes Castiel willing to risk the infection. He turns to leave to continue tidying the kitchen but before he can, an arm shoots out of the blanket pile and he is pulled into Dean’s arms, soup and biscuit placed on the coffee table.   
He snuggles his back against Dean’s chest, and ‘hmms’ as he nuzzles Castiel’s neck with nose and then kisses where neck meets shoulder.  
  
“Thanks for being so awesome, Cas.”   
  
Castiel just smiles and leans more into his sick human’s body.  
Whatever, bring on the germs.


End file.
